


Series 03

by Shinocchi



Series: Same Heart; Different Universe [15]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Angst, Bittersweet, Character Study, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:37:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinocchi/pseuds/Shinocchi
Summary: The end of mankind had given birth to an entirely new species of 'humans'.Series 02 -- the second type of human species, a species born from the need to fulfill their creators' basic needs to survive. They held no emotions, no reason to live, and definitely no attachment to anything at all in the world.But is sustaining the survival of humankind the only reason Series 02 is created?Or is theresomething elsethat is the key reason for their reason of existence?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! Right before New Year, here's the next huge project I am super excited to share with you! :D
> 
> After [One Day Memory (2014)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1380985/chapters/2890975), and [Second Chance (2015)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2439038/chapters/5402267), this is the next multi-chapter project that I know would be another great impact to my writing life as well -- Series 03 (2016). The namings for all these three stories are definitely not intentional, I swear (One, Two, Three, well...), they just fit so I take it as they are meant to be told then heh!
> 
> This is a genre that I've never tried before, so as the other two that I've written, and I'm super excited to be writing and sharing this story to anyone who's interested! It's a story of humanity, of contradicting moralities, and of course, the ending would be something you never thought it'd be true.
> 
> So, thank you for reading! Readers who were with me since the ODM era, welcome back! New readers who just joined me here, welcome! And I hope you'll enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it! <3

_` You are not your own body.` _

_` This life was given to you. It’s not yours to begin with.` _

_` Your body, your life, your soul, your meaning of existence.` _

_` They don’t belong to you.` _

_` You are only an empty shell.` _

 

“Codename, 2012. You may leave now.”

He opened his eyes, the bright overhead light blinding his vision. He raised a hand, covering his eyes with the back of it, his mind still in a daze, attempting to adjust to the tweaks that were enforced on him. He didn’t feel at all uncomfortable; it’s a process he was more than familiar with after all. But he’d never get used to waking up like this, pondering about his existence all over again, while he waited for the truth to sink deliberately into him.

He’s not his own body. This body was simply a shell, this conscious he possessed now was programmed. His existence wasn’t his to live, but his creator’s. He was created for them, he lived for them. This was nothing but a borrowed life.

He sighed, sitting up then proceeded to feel his limbs. Nothing felt out of the ordinary. He had new statistics embedded into his brain and his limbs felt lighter but that was all. It’s merely a maintenance routine after all. Once he stepped out of this lab, he’d be back to normal – to his usual deceptive self.

“2012.”

He looked up, meeting gaze with the lab scientist who was in charge of his maintenance. He wore a blazing smile, as he was more than familiar with, before he felt a pat on his shoulder.

“I could enhance every parts of your body but it seems like the only part that I could do nothing about is your smile.”

He frowned. This wasn’t the first time he’d been hearing this from him. What’s the point of installing this whatever smile function on him anyway? It’s nothing more than an expression – something he’d come to deem as fake and unnecessary.

“You need to try,” the scientist said. Putting his clipboard on the table by his side, he pushed two fingers up the corners of his lips, smiling all the time. “You would look so good if you could just smile.”

“What’s the point of it?” he brushed him off. “If it’s going to be useful, you could go ahead and install it then.”

“That defeats the purpose of its true function, then,” his guardian countered. “A smile should be done naturally.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll know when it’s time for you to know,” he beamed. Patting him on the head, he said. “I can’t wait to see you expand all the potential you had within you. You’re an outstanding SH, 2012.”

SH, Synthetic Human. Humans created by humans. Humans that aren’t real. These were humans with functions intended to fulfil the needs of other humans – their hierarchy of needs: physiological needs, safety needs, belongingness, esteem needs, self-actualization. And because of that, SH existed for various reasons, based on whatever needs their creators demanded of them. There were SHs who existed for the sole purpose to protect, some as an augmented decoration – nothing more than that – to sustain the need for acceptance, and some were built with the intent for sex, for pleasure, for the sole need to please.

2012 belonged in the safety category – he was built to protect, and when needed, to destroy. He’d been one of the best SH assassins ever since he was given his conscious, his body refined wherever necessary, his brain inputted with copious of details wherever needed. He was a walking weapon, who belonged to not only one creator, but for any creator who deemed the need to make good use of him.

He was nothing but a tool, a fact that he’d come to know very well. He was created for protection and destruction – and he had nothing else to focus on but to ensure that every mission given to him was executed in the most perfect way.

He’d never failed any of his mission anyway. Without emotions, he was able to recognize his opponent as nothing but a shell. He’d killed many before – humans, SHs like himself; but he’d never understand the purpose of doing so. There’s no reason for him to do that, that wasn’t the purpose of his existence. Even when he spotted the abundance of emotions in the other’s face during their last moments, including the last words only he had gotten to hear, he deleted them off his memory as soon as he was done with his mission. He’d killed so many he couldn’t remember any of them. They held no significance to him after all. They weren’t his creator – they were just part of his mission.

He found himself in the dressing room the moment he bid farewell to his guardian, standing in front of the mirror, a habit he’d come to pick up since the first time he got his persona. A smile, huh? If it served no purpose, then he shouldn’t be dwelling too much on it. It’d become a form of distraction, which was the last thing he ever needed.

He moved his arm, his body looked just like any other humans’ – blond-haired, piercing pair of lime-green eyes, the skin texture coarse yet perfect, faded scars could be seen on various parts of his body, ones that his guardian never bothered to fix. He said it’d give him a sense of life, as if he was _really_ human, but it didn’t concern him anyhow. He wasn’t too fond of how his body had become but everything was a deception anyway. The skin he was wearing, blood that was put into him, circulation and digestive systems that were both synthetic.

Even his heart.

He raised a hand to his chest, feeling the steady thumping of his heart from beneath it. He’d heard about how humans would cease to function the moment their heart stopped beating -- it’s also the reason how he’d come to aim at a human’s heart whenever he was faced with one – and having one that was thumping in his body was still a fascinating realization to him.

Would _he_ die if he was to stop his heart from functioning then? It’s easy, all he needed to do was plunge his fist right through his artificial skin, feeling the artificial blood flooding out of his artificial body. And then, he’d crush his heart – as simple as that.

He smirked at the thought. Human life was unnecessary, they’re too easy to be perished. Living as a human must be tough if they could be destroyed so easily like this.

He took another good glance of himself in the mirror, then turned his back towards it, heading to where he could retrieve his clothing.

Midorijima was a mix of contrasts. Human beings made up the least populations on the island, but they were also the creator of the SH series, making them the reason for why they made up the highest level of the social chain. The destruction of humankind had cost severe consequences. Biological reproduction had proven to be one of the toughest missions and across years, it’d hit them that if they were to allow the situation to continue, they’d never be able to sustain the species any longer. It’s then that they realized the importance of having themselves protected, pleasured, and sustained to be able to prolong the lifespan. And it’s then that they realized how important it was for them to have substitutes – as many as they could – so that they could remain relevant to the world.

Synthetic Humans – SH – was an idea too good to be true. The concept was stemmed by a multinational corporation called Toue. Inc, the creator and the reason for the existence of these synthetic humans. Experiments after experiments were conducted throughout the years, and the first batch of these ‘humans’ were released only after four decades of continuous trial-and-error. It was one of the biggest miracles humankind could ever receive. They called this new batch of new humans Series 02, symbolizing the starting of a second series of human beings, a new set of life that was brought to save the species.

Ever since then, rules after rules were implemented, just so they could put a control onto these new humans. They were given no more than what they needed to know, specific systems were built into every one of them just to ensure that they were within the humans’ control. They weren’t absolutely free, everything they were to do was within the monitoring of humans. With every new release of a SH, a self-destructive system was built in them at the same time, connected to their core functioning system, ready to be launched whenever any SH was seen to be acting out of what was expected of them. They lived amongst the humans, acted, dressed, spoke like any other human beings would.

And across years, no one in Midorijima could ever tell who was and who wasn’t a SH. They made friends with each other, trying not to think too much of each other as being artificial or not. They never told each other what they really were, attempting to live life as normal as they could, living solely based on the ignorance is bliss concept. Life was precious, life was too short to be considering too much. Every living being on this corrupted world wanted nothing more but to live their entire life in peace, die in peace – that’s about all, even when they had no purpose at all to living.

Series 02 didn’t look and feel at all different than any other human beings anyway: their skin was perfect, so was their personality and expressions. They were a person of their own and it was more than enough for the human beings to believe a beautiful lie.

It was a twisted world mixed between truth and deception – it was a world humans in the 22nd century was forced to live in, just so they could survive for a few more centuries.

The bright sunlight he felt on his skin was nothing compared to the one he felt in the lab. This was real, not artificial, and he still couldn’t quite tell which one he preferred more. He adjusted the shades on his eyes, stuck his hands into his trench coat pockets and walked down the street, all the while thinking of what he should do now that he had a free day of his own. He stood at the cross path, trying very hard to ignore ogling girls all the way he’d walked here. He could return to his home, where he could spend his entire day doing nothing but checking on his own system, or he could head into town, try the new _ramen_ shop in the corner of the street.

He was about to take the latter route when he felt a slight nudge on his coat, turning around to see one of the girls – who had been following him all the way ever since he passed by a park earlier – staring at him.

“I-I’m sorry,” she said, obvious trembles could be heard from her voice. “If you don’t mind, c-can I take a picture with you?”

It must be one of the high school girls from a nearby school. Checking his Coil, he heaved a sigh. He’d chosen the worst time to be roaming around. Being stopped like this wasn’t at all unfamiliar to him. Thanks to the good look his creator had given him, he was always being mistaken as a model, or a celebrity, that often had people stopping him on the street just so they could take a picture with him.

It didn’t bother him too much, it’d only take a few minutes of his time. But it’s still an irony of its own, knowing how he’d served as a physiological purpose for others out of his own intention.

“Sure,” he replied simply. He took his shades off, heard a squeal, and immediately found himself being surrounded by three girls, who were all holding their phones up to take a picture with him.

The bright sunlight was starting to hurt his vision, urging him to make a quick mental note to have his guardian adjusting the setting for his eyes in his next maintenance. He tried a smile when the girls thanked him and scrambled away, but quickly stopped, feeling out of place in an instance.

He sighed again. He’d been sighing too much lately. It didn’t feel like him at all. Brushing the intention to visit the new _ramen_ shop out of his mind, he took another route, deciding that he’d go home after all.

It was then that his Coil started ringing. One glance on the screen told him that it’s a mission, his veins instantly propelling with intense anticipation. He accepted the call without a second thought.

“ _`Codename 2012 – Mission.`_ ”

“2012, on the call.”

“ _`Venue: Central Park. Target: Dark-haired, green jacket, a hat, 192cm, 68kg`_.”

“Understood.”

He ended the call. Just simple instructions, no courtesy whatsoever needed. He never bothered to ask why, his creator never bothered to ask how. It’s always been like this – he’d pick up the call, accept the mission, and execute it.

Just as simple as that.

He headed to the venue in full-speed, all the while thinking about the kind of weapon he was to use this time. His creator never told him not to create any huge havoc, he wasn’t given any special instructions so he assumed that this would be just like any other mission, kill and go – that’s all.

This shouldn’t take too long then, he thought. Perhaps he could still manage to catch the _ramen_ after all.

He stopped in the centre of the park, his visual scanning conjured for him to capture the target, and it didn’t take too long for him to locate him.

A dark-haired man sat on the bench, feeding a horde of cats, who were all gathered by his feet. He wore a dark-green jacket, a hat propped on his head. He looked like a big man, yet he was wearing a gentle expression on his face as he spoke to the cats, responded with the cats’ soft purring whenever he stroked their heads.

He took careful steps towards the man, all the while scrutinizing his actions. He wondered what had this man done to have deserved death, but quickly shook the question off his head. This wasn’t his place to ask and he shouldn’t be interfering with his creator’s intention. He simply needed to fulfil his responsibility.

He searched in his trench coat pocket, retrieving a shot gun, and aimed at the man. The right timing was now, he had his trigger ready, he just need to pull when—

“Ah, you’re here!”

A new man entered the scene, catching him off guard. He loosened his finger on the trigger, staring closer, waiting to see if anything unexpected had just happened.

“I’ve been looking for you!”

The new man had blue-coloured hair, long and wavy. He was smiling at the man when he rushed towards him, panting as he caught his breath.

“Aoba!” the man grinned. “I told you I’m going out for a while, didn’t I?”

Aoba? It’s not a name he was familiar with. Who’s this person? A human? A SH?

“Well, you did. But you didn’t say you’d be gone for _so_ long,” the man named Aoba pouted. “C’mon, we need to go back before the nurses get worried.”

“Ah, but…” the man eyed the cats, all of them waiting for food. “I can’t leave them alone here.”

Aoba sighed. With his hands on his hips, he frowned.

“You say that every time I try to get you back. Okay, here’s what I’m going to do,” he took the packet of sardines out of the man’s hand, dragging him off the bench then taking his place. “you go back, I’ll feed them, is that alright?”

“Aoba…”

Aoba’s smile was mixed with a hint of sad the moment the man called his name.

“I understand but please, you need to understand your own condition too,” Aoba convinced. “We’re worried about you, and everything we do are only for the best of your welfare.”

They shared gaze for a few moments before the man sighed, ruffling Aoba on the hair before he said,

“Okay, you win. I’ll head back then. Make sure you feed all of them.”

“Roger that!” Aoba responded glowingly. “Now, go on, you.”

The man walked away after a wave, pulling him back to his conscious almost immediately. Thanks to his advanced auditory ability, he was able to listen to every word they shared in their conversation even when he was standing miles away from them. What was the business between the both of them, he wondered. But this shouldn’t be the time for him to ponder. The man was leaving, so was the chance for him to assassinate him.

He lifted his shotgun again, this time, with no hesitance left.

And then, the pull of trigger shook the peace of the park, the hoard of cats scrambling away, the man named Aoba stood, staring outrageously at where his friend had just walked away. 2012’s focus remained unmoved, he had to make sure that his target was really dead before he could move on.

But then, he felt another pair of searing gaze at him, shaking his focus as he stared, meeting eyes with Aoba, who was staring at him from a distance away.

For some reason, there was a kind of mixed emotions swarming from the inside of him the moment he met eyes with Aoba’s light-brown one. His heart thumped harder to the extent of pain, something he’d never experienced before.

And while the entire peace was shaken, both of them stood staring at each other, their gaze fixed, their own worlds shook.

How would one define being human? Was it the ability to have authentic flesh and blood on one’s body? Or was it through the extent of emotions one could feel from beneath their chest?

Or was it from the abundance of emotions they could feel from another person, so vividly genuine like this – as if there was no definition at all between being a human and a non-human?


End file.
